


Temptation

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Elevator Sex, Fingerfucking, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 06:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *Mondatta/Zenyatta* Written for Kinktober 2019 day 14 - public sex





	Temptation

**Author's Note:**

> might not be entirely public but a security camera counts, right folks? right? right?

**Temptation**

Mondatta should have known it would happen –from the moment Zenyatta pushed through the other Shambali and the guards, sliding into the elevator behind Mondatta, he should have known something like this would happen.

“Zenyatta…–”

Fingers disappearing underneath layers of clothes, his knee pushing past barely parted legs, Zenyatta tilted his head up, meeting Mondatta’s optical receptors.

There was no expression to be read there, but Zenyatta looked expectant, almost flirty, like daring Mondatta to say something.

It had taken him only a second to press the stop button, halting the elevator between floors. They’d arrived early enough that they could spare a few minutes with no one coming to check on them, but Mondatta hadn’t expected Zenyatta would be this forwards.

“Yes, Master?” Zenyatta tilted his head a little, managing to sound clueless yet at the same time unrepentant. “What seems to be the matter?”

“My light, you know I have a speech I need to attend.”

“I am aware,” Zenyatta hummed, forehead array sparking in a smile. “So we should talk less, and… do… more.”

The knee pushing between his legs slid higher, and Mondatta tried to ignore his fans whirring just a little bit faster, and instead attempted to look stern and disapproving.

He was not sure he managed it –Zenyatta’s body was warm against his own, and the closeness was surprising but welcome.

Mondatta tilted his head up, and was startled to see the lens of a camera in the upper corner of the elevator, pointed at…

“Zenyatta, there is a camera there–” he tried to shift, his tone urgent, but Zenyatta pressed harder into him.

“Oh… is there a camera?” his tone was perhaps a touch too smug, because Mondatta stiffened against him. “I had not noticed it.”

“Zenyatta…”

Chuckling softly, Zenyatta pressed his face against the crook of Mondatta’s neck, forehead slotted against one of his pistons, and his fingers slipped lower to cup his modesty panel. It was hot under his touch, and Zenyatta hummed.

“Would you truly mind, if someone were to see us like this…?” he asked, nuzzling into Mondatta’s neck.

Mondatta’s hips jolted a bit into him, and his hands moved to his shoulders, shaking a little, but rather than push him away, Mondatta simply held him.

He had been the one to tease Zenyatta often like this, murmuring words in his auricular receptors, goading him where they could be seen –but he’d always been the one in control, the one who knew how far to take things.

This time, Zenyatta had turned the tables on him, and Mondatta had to admit –he did not really mind.

“Might it be because… it has been a while, since we were able to do this?” Zenyatta purred, and his other hand slid between Mondatta and the wall, caressing familiar sensors. “Or perhaps, you wish to give a good show to whoever is on the other side of that camera, _master_.”

There was a soft, hiccupping sound from Mondatta’s synth, and the hands on Zenyatta’s shoulders slid down behind him. “Do not tease me so, Zenyatta.”

“But then how could I get you to make beautiful sounds, master?” Zenyatta’s mouthpiece sparkled with omnic energy, kissing Mondatta’s neck and stimulating the sensors hiding there, and Mondatta threw his head back, gasping. “I wish for more. I wish to see you come undone for me, and I wish to be the one to take you there.”

He sounded breathless, and there was a softness to his tone that Mondatta recognised, used to it by now.

Zenyatta was worried, and Mondatta could understand. With all his work and worry over his speeches, they’d barely had any time for themselves, let alone to spend together, and Mondatta might have missed more than a few hours of sleep.

Fingers caressed a path against Mondatta’s spine, fizzing with omnic energy, and Mondatta pushed into his touch with a soft curse, thoughts returning sharply to the situation at hand.

“Oh, my,” Zenyatta gasped, forehead array betraying his amusement even if he attempted to sound scandalized. “The great Tekhartha Mondatta, cursing while he’s being fondled? What would the press say…?”

Mondatta flipped them around so quickly Zenyatta’s back slammed into the wall, huffing out a small sound when Mondatta’s hands trailed down his back, fingers finding familiar slots on his spine that dragged tiny, startled gasps out of Zenyatta’s synth. “Do not tease me so, my light –I have been watching you all day, instead of focusing on rehearsing my speech. You have been… a menace.”

Zenyatta’s laughter was loud and unashamed, laced with exhilaration as he was pressed into the wall, yet he wriggled in Mondatta’s grasp, pushing their groins together. “Does that mean, master, that I might need… disciplining?” a flare of his forehead array, and Zenyatta chuckled again. “Have I been bad?”

Mondatta groaned, shaking his head slowly before flopping against Zenyatta’s shoulder. “You will be my death, my light.”

Zenyatta kissed his neck, omnic energy flaring against his metal and silicon, and Mondatta’s hips pushed hard into the hand still stroking his modesty panel, huffing when the fingers slid between his legs, thumb reaching for the smaller sensors in his inner thighs. “You will not stop, will you? Even…” Mondatta’s optical receptors flicked up towards the camera.

It was a show of just how much Zenyatta had riled him up that he did not feel worried about whoever was looking –they were in an elevator, and people rarely checked the feed, unless there was a problem, and even then most of it was automatized through droids with low AI. There was little chance of someone being on the other side, and yet…

“I only wish to help you relax, master,” Zenyatta purred, and his fingers moved insistently against him. “Allow me.”

It had been weeks since they’d had time to indulge. It had been weeks, with scarcely a moment for a quick reprieve, and Mondatta might be the leader of an organization seeking peace, but he was no saint.

Watching Zenyatta be by his side every day, his joyous light brightening up every room, his voice singing for him…

Mondatta truly was no saint, and he had missed this.

Slowly, his modesty panel slid out of the way, and Zenyatta felt the hard press of Mondatta’s cock push into his fingers, thick and heavy, and he wrapped his hand around it, fingers stroking its length.

Mondatta’s hips stuttered as he pushed into Zenyatta’s hand, optical receptors falling shut for a moment to enjoy the friction, pleasure bubbling up his back, filling his circuits with feedback.

Instead of teasing him further, Zenyatta’s hand slipped away from his cock, tugged the hem of Mondatta’s robes and dragged them upwards, first exposing his calves, then his knees, then his thighs, sighing in pleasure as Mondatta was exposed to him in all his glory. With measured movements, Zenyatta tied the robes up so they would not unroll again, with such slow, awed calm that Mondatta found himself transfixed, heat spiralling from the depths of his core downwards, its centre and focus the valve now fully exposed to his student’s optical receptors.

“You are a sight to behold,” Zenyatta murmured, almost in awe, and he parted his legs so Mondatta could slot between them.

“Do not tease me, Zenyatta… for your touch alone has me reeling –your voice would truly be my end.” Mondatta gasped when Zenyatta took him in hand again and he pushed harder into it, fucking the willing grip, only to moan again when Zenyatta’s other hand joined the first, slipping lower, teasing his aching valve, the tip of his index rubbing insistently against his glowing nub. “My light, I–”

“Allow me this, Mondatta,” and Zenyatta’s voice was thick with lust, the way he breathed out Mondatta’s name sending shivers down his back. “Take your pleasure from me.”

Fingers pushed against the folds of his valve, already depressurized and filling with slick, and Mondatta would have felt a spike of embarrassment at how quickly Zenyatta was getting him high on pleasure, if not for the fact that his processors had already set a new priority, and he was busy shallowly fucking into Zenyatta’s hand, groaning and throwing his head back.

“Yes, master,” Zenyatta pressed his mouthpiece against Mondatta’s neck, omnic energy caressing his metal in kiss after kiss. “Harder–”

Mondatta followed the advice, hips snapping into a harsher rhythm, and Zenyatta’s hand moved an inch lower, angling in such a way that he had three fingers stretched to slide inside Mondatta’s valve with every thrust.

“Zen–” a muffled, breathless gasp, and Mondatta pushed himself against Zenyatta with his full weight, chasing the fullness those fingers allowed him.

The fingers slid deeper inside him, spreading and scissoring the insides of his valve, teasing inner sensors, and Mondatta groaned again, cursing, and pushed into them again, the massage and Zenyatta’s hand stroking his cock all he could focus on.

He could hear, dulled by the rush of pleasure and heat in his circuits, that Zenyatta was murmuring into his auricular receptors, praising him and asking him to move even harder, to push him into the wall like he meant it, and his tempo grew even more frantic, chasing the pleasure with quick, sharp snaps of his hips.

“Master–” Zenyatta tilted his head up, arching his back so he could press their bodies together, and Mondatta’s hands slid to his biceps, holding him still so he could continue to fuck himself on Zenyatta’s fingers. “N-no more worries about the camera?”

Mondatta cursed again, and tugged at the sleeve of Zenyatta’s shirt, synth cracking with white noise when Zenyatta’s hand grew lax around his cock, denying him the friction he needed.

“Zenyatta–” he could not stop, thrusting still into the hot clutch of Zenyatta’s hand, the fingers following every movement, rubbing and caressing his insides.

He wanted more than this –he wanted to fuck Zenyatta’s valve, plunge into its warm, tight depths until he had Zenyatta cry out his name, he wanted Zenyatta’s cock to fuck into him, hard and fast, giving him more than what his fingers could. He wanted it all, and in the blur of Mondatta’s haze, nothing else mattered anymore except Zenyatta.

“If it is recording… I wish I could get a copy,” Zenyatta spoke again, and Mondatta stiffened, pleasure coiling inside him, threatening to spill through.

A recording… of himself frantically allowing his dear, precious Zenyatta to bring him to climax, a recording anyone could see–

“Zenyatta…”

“I-it would be such a hit –the great… Tekhartha Mondatta, brought to climax by his student in an elevator minutes before his big speech… t-think they would mind, if you arrived there… ah–if you arrived there stained with lubrication, legs shaking, valve still slick and empty, looking like you’ve been fucked?”

There was a breathless hitch in Zenyatta’s voice, and Mondatta distantly wondered if he was getting hot at the thought, or if the idea of Mondatta fucking into his hand was enough to get him bothered too, but he couldn’t focus on that, not when Zenyatta’s hand tightened its hold around his cock again, clamping down on it, nails scraping against the sensors on its underneath, and this time Mondatta made a much louder sound, head thrown back as his thrusting faltered, pleasure washing over him.

“Fuck–”

“Mondatta, please…” Zenyatta steadied his hand, fingers curved as they slid inside Mondatta, moaning, “will you come for me…?”

With one last hard thrust, pushing so hard into those fingers Mondatta felt them slide all the way inside him, stretching and filling him just _enough_, Mondatta arched his back and climaxed, a drawn-out moan leaving his synth as pleasure crashed and bubbled over.

He moaned Zenyatta’s name, then again, as Zenyatta’s fingers rubbed his insides, milked his orgasm until there was nothing left to give, and then he stumbled against him, lethargic and spent, and Zenyatta’s hand slipped out of him, wet with his slick, to wrap around his shoulders.

Zenyatta arched against him, legs parted, a little movement that was as insistent as it was desperate.

“Mondatta…”

Vents steaming, Mondatta relaxed into Zenyatta’s hold, feeling deliciously tired, servos relaxed, processes calming down and restarting properly, the ache between his legs fading into a pleasant burn.

He was aware that Zenyatta’s modesty panel had opened, he could feel the press of his cock against the curve of his knee, and hummed quietly, the haze receding enough to leave him calmer.

“Do you wish me to take care of you, Zenyatta? Just like you did with me?”

“_Master_–” there was such devotion in his tone and it sent a pang through Mondatta’s core.

“Even if you have been so naughty?”

Against him, Zenyatta shuddered, and the grinding into his knee halted.

“Master…?”

“Perhaps, my light,” he purred into Zenyatta’s auricular receptor, pressing one hand against his chest, “you should be made to wait.”

Against his knee, Zenyatta’s cock twitched.

“I do believe you mentioned… a punishment.” Mondatta nuzzled into Zenyatta’s neck, giving back as many kisses as Zenyatta had given him before. “You approached me in a public place,” Zenyatta twitched in his arms, “and perhaps you should… think about your actions, and what appropriate punishment you might deserve.”

“Master– Mondatta…” he whined, synth hiccupping.

“You have done such a good job, though,” Mondatta continued, stroking a path down Zenyatta’s chest with his hand, avoiding the bulge of Zenyatta’s cock entirely, fingers teasing the spot above his valve, aware that clothes were between himself and that sweet reward, making it harder for Zenyatta to push into his hand, “I do feel… lighter, now, and you did take such a good care of me, so… I will only have you wait until tonight, my light –instead of until the weekend.”

Zenyatta gasped and pushed into the touch, groaning in frustration when Mondatta’s hand retreated.

“What do you say, Zenyatta? Am I not a courteous master for you?”

“Yes!” Zenyatta breathed, shivering, aching, head bobbing into a desperate nod. “Master, please…”

“Then, Zenyatta, you might wait for me in our rooms… make sure you prepare yourself for your punishment tonight… but you are not allowed to come.”

The noise that left Zenyatta’s synth was music to his ears, even if the pain of separating from his sweet student made Mondatta ache again.

Mondatta had been the one to come, but it was Zenyatta who looked debauched, stains of Mondatta’s teal slick marring the lower part of his Shambali attire, making it obvious for anyone looking as to what had happened inside the elevator.

With steady hands, Mondatta unfolded his robes and patted them until he looked presentable, then pressed the button for the conference floor and with a slight bump, the elevator resumed its movement, dinging when he reached the correct floor and the doors slid open to reveal a narrow corridor and an open door at the end.

Still abandoned against the wall, Zenyatta made another soft, strangled noise.

“Be mindful, my light,” he told him, smugness colouring his tone, “when I come back into our rooms, I wish to see you desperate for me already, so do not… slack.”

Mondatta stepped out of the elevator, Zenyatta still pressed into the opposite wall, and then paused.

“Ah, Zenyatta? Do remember,” he murmured his parting words, tone severe and steady, “if you come any time before I arrive, I will _know_. And I will be greatly displeased.”

And if perhaps his footsteps towards the conference hall were lighter, and he hummed softly to himself as he walked away, knowing Zenyatta would ache for him come evening, that was his little secret, and no one else’s.

In front of him, the hall full of open hearts waited for him, and after that, Zenyatta would, as well.


End file.
